M  A  S K KAMEN
by the.soul.alchemist
Summary: Temporary Hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

**-M . A . S . K- **

**(K.A.M.E.N)**

.P.r.o.l.o.g.u.e.

On December the sixth, 2008, a Japanese boy by the name of Ichigo Kurosaki died. This boy, who at the time was 14 years of age, had been walking home after dark. He had spent the evening at the nearby house of a friend, and they'd been working on a school project together. The project was about Japan's place in the international system of importing and exporting. Ichigo Kurosaki and his friend had decided on a few choice products that Japan was known to export-namely, video games, manga, and PockyTM.

After several hours of very little productive work(their research on video games led them to some very `hands-on` experiments)they decided to split and recommence the project in class.

Ichigo Kurosaki stepped out of his friend's doorway and began walking down the street to his own house, a hand lazily waving farewell.

Simultaneously, a drunk truck-driver was rushing on his route, which happened to include the road on which Kurosaki was walking.

Due to the nature of his intoxication, as well as his haste to reach the location that he should've arrived at well over an hour ago, the truck-driver found it difficult to stop when his path was heading towards a young adolescent with notably orange hair.

The truck's brakes squealed against the pavement. Kurosaki stepped back, eyes widening.

A collision was made.

The driver, panicked and cursing, sped away at an even greater speed than before.

Ichigo Kurosaki died that night.

Such a fact is undeniable.

However, Ichigo Kurosaki was already registered in the Seiretei archive books. The loss of his soul would've been noted, and acted on by the Shinigami. Drawn by the boy's high reiatsu, legions of minor Hollow swarmed and consumed both his body and his soul.

A replacement needed to be made.

The next day, the boy known as Ichigo Kurosaki went to school. Life continued, for the one named Ichigo Kurosaki.

Ichigo Kurosaki died that night, but no human in the world knew. Not his family, not his friends. . .and for some time, not `himself`.


	2. Chapter 2

**-M . A . S . K- **

**(K.A.M.E.N)**

C.h.a.p.t.e.r 1

The morning after his death, Ichigo Kurosaki woke up.

The sunlight was shining through the open window, illuminating the simple room before hitting the bed and it's occupant. Blinking his eyes blearily, said occupant propped himself up on one elbow and began to survey his surroundings.

A substantial blue blanket hung heavily on his frame, before pooling around him. Glancing up, he winced slightly. The sun made the backs of his eyes ache when he looked at where its light reflected off of a mirror on the back of the door. An incessant beeping noise had been lurking somewhere in his perception. Now that he'd focused on it, the sound seemed irritatingly loud. It seemed to be coming from a metal box with a clear screen.

_A clock_, something in his-_his?_-memory provided.

Understanding dawned on him. He lurched over to press the snooze button, and at the same time noticed the numbers on the clock's digital screen.

7:46AM.

He settled back onto the bed, sitting up now.

From below, unidentified yet appealing smells wafted up. Someone was cooking something.

``Ichi-nii! Breakfast is ready!`` a cheery, girlish voice called.

Ichigo? Ichigo Kurosaki. . .

``Oi! Ichigo-nee! Come down and eat breakfast already, or you're going to be late for school!``yelled another voice. Although still feminine, this voice was distinctedly more rough.

He was stunned out of his reverie when the feminine-but-rough voice yelled again, louder now.

``ICHIGO!``

He froze, then toppled off his bed. Scrambling up again, he reached the door. For fear that the voices would sound again, and for the sake of his curiousity, he made his way down the stairs.

At the doorway of what he presumed to be a kitchen, he stopped. Inside were two girls, both with short hair. One was sitting at the table, watching him with a sightly wary expression. The other was standing by the stove, wearing a pale green apron.

``Good morning, Ichi-nii!``chirped the one with the light brown hair. She was the one with the first voice he'd heard. So the girl with the black hair and the baseball hat must've been the rougher voice.

When he didn't respond, the girl at the table narrowed her eyes.

``Ichigo-nii. . .?``she asked cautiously.

Silence.

Both girls were now looking at him with concern and questions in their eyes.

Ichigo. . .Kurosaki. . .

Ichigo Kurosaki?

Finally, he spoke. ``Yuzu. . .Karin.`` He glanced at both of his sisters consecutively, then smiled. ``Good morning. What's for breakfast?``

Yuzu relaxed. ``Omelettes, Ichi-nii! Eat up!``

Ichigo Kurosaki. . .

Yes, that was his name.

Ichigo sat down at the table, and ate the neatly rolled omelettes on his plate. Once he finished, he stood up, grabbed his bag, and made for the door.

``Hey, Ichigo-nii! Change out of your pajamas first!``


	3. Chapter 3

**-M . A . S . K-**

**(K.A.M.E.N)**

C.h.a.p.t.e.r 2

Ichigo Kurosaki was a normal boy.

Sixteen years of age, thriving. He did well in school, played sports every now and then(although he never joined any teams), and generally fit in quite well in Karakura's only public high school.

His shock of orange hair did get him an amount of unwanted attention(of which was hostile more often than not)but that was fine, because he always won the fights. After the first two or three times, he stopped getting any visible marks at all. That didn't, however, mean that he was more lacking in bruises and scraped than any other boy his age. Ichigo's father, Tatsuki, and Rukia gave him more than enough of _those_, thank you very much.

Ichigo, like several others, was also the focus of romantic attention. Unlike several others, he remained blissfully unaware of it, to the chagrin of his admirers.

Yes, in many senses of the word, Ichigo Kurosaki was a normal boy.

He ate, he slept, he went to school, he killed Hollow on a regular basis, he went to the bathroom, he googled his name, and he procrastinated on his schoolwork-just like any other Japanese male his age. Well, except for maybe the `Hollow slaying` part.

Ichigo was, in fact, so normal, that even when his family and the closest of his friends learned the truth, none of them were able to pinpoint the exact date of transition on their own. And Rukia, who may've been the best friend Ichigo ever had-Rukia met him when he was _fifteen_.

A friend that never reached the epiphany was Keigo.

Keigo and Ichigo had always been the best of friends.

But after the night Ichigo spent at his house, the two were just never the same.

Keigo couldn't believe that the morning after, Ichigo walked into homeroom with a faint smile on his face and absolutely no recollection of their project. The same seemed to apply to all his other assignments as well. Worst of all, Ichigo's marks picked up, and Keigo was left at the bottom of the class alone.

Keigo wasn't the only one left slightly bewildered at the changes in Ichigo's personality.

Tatsuki, too-where was the weakly grinning boy she'd grown up with? Although she'd admit that Ichigo _had_ toughened up over the years, and would no longer cry if you poked him too hard, the remnants of his previous wimpy persona still showed under every action he made.

Orihime, and Ichigo's other classmates noticed as well.

But it didn't take long for all of them to adapt.

People change. They knew that much, despite how those who were older looked down on them.

Besides, Ichigo was still Ichigo, right?


End file.
